Vermin Lord
by goodpie2
Summary: When Harry is kicked out by the Dursleys for using accidental magic, he has to live on the streets. While doing so, he discovers that he has power over vermin. M for violence and swearing. Contains a Dark, but not evil, Harry.
1. Chapter 1

So, I promised myself I wouldn't write anything else until I got out another chapter of Protomage (after all, it's been like eight months), but I couldn't think of anything and this little plot bunny just wouldn't quit hopping around. So, here goes. I can't honestly say how far I'll get with this, but I've got a few chapters planned out, and vague ideas after that, and I'll probably get out a few chapters fairly soon.

I would also like to ask for help. I'm an American, and I know very little about Britishlanders. I would appreciate help with everything from vernacular to culture to food. I REALLY need help with places. What I do know mostly comes from TV and books (which, admittedly, is better than most Americans, who just get their knowledge from TV). Anyway, unless I can get a real life Britishlander to help me write HP fics, my stories are going to be strangely American sounding for something that takes place in Britain.

Anyway, without further ado, I present: Vermin Lord.

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"BOY! GET IN HERE!" bellowed Uncle Vernon.

Harry sighed. He'd been wondering why it had taken so long. In the past, he'd been beaten immediately whenever something weird happened. This time, he'd just been locked in his cupboard while Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia talked in low voices. Which was odd, because Dudley had actually been hurt when his clothes caught on fire earlier in the day. Dudley had been beating him up as a "birthday present," when Harry fell to the ground. The next thing he knew, Dudley was on fire. The school nurse had even had to take him to the hospital! Harry was sure Uncle Vernon would beat him more than ever, even though Harry hadn't had anything to do with it.

Harry walked into the kitchen, where his uncle would be waiting to deliver his beating. To his surprise, Uncle Vernon was sitting down at the table with Aunt Petunia, grinning.

Harry froze. This was far more terrifying than the threat of being beaten.

"Come with me, boy." Uncle Vernon said, getting up and moving towards the living room.

Harry followed Uncle Vernon outside to the car.

"Get in," Uncle Vernon said as he opened the door for himself.

Harry, without uttering a word, did so.

As the car pulled out of the driveway and onto the road, Uncle Vernon began whistling (or rather, trying to whistle- he wasn't very good at it).

Harry sat silently, trying to figure out where they were going. Houses passed the window, until they pulled out onto the highway. As they pulled off of the highway into an area with seedy looking shops and buildings, Uncle Vernon began talking.

"I suppose you're wondering what kind of punishment this is, boy, being taken for a drive. After all, you _did _try to kill Dudders. Well, I had a nice long talk with your aunt, and she's agreed that enough is enough. We took you in, we fed you, we clothed you, we provided for your education, all out of the goodness of our hearts, and how do you repay us? By trying to murder our only son. Well, no more. I've been waiting for this day a long time, boy. I'm finally going to be rid of you, once and for all." He lapsed into silence at this point.

Harry sat there, looking at the back of his uncle's head. Frankly, he wasn't sure whether to be relieved or horrified. On the one hand, the Dursleys had always been terrible to him. He'd been beaten daily (his uncle claimed it helped "keep the freakishness out of him), barely fed, and often made to work until he nearly passed out from exhaustion (if he did pass out, he would receive another beating for his laziness). On the other hand, he'd heard stories of life on the streets. It was supposed to be even worse. But, how could something be worse than the Dursleys?

He stared out the window as Uncle Vernon pulled up beside a parking deck.

"Get out, boy. And good riddance." His uncle laughed.

Mechanically, Harry climbed out of the car and stumbled to the sidewalk. As soon as he made it off the road, Uncle Vernon sped away, laughing uproariously.

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Eventually, Harry wandered into the parking deck. As he settled down for the night, he _felt _something. He didn't know what it was, but it felt like it was in his mind. Or rather, _next to _his mind. As he looked around, he saw a small grey mouse crawling across the concrete. The thing next to his mind seemed to move with it. Harry reached out towards his hand, willing the mouse to come towards him so that he could get a closer look. To his surprise, the mouse suddenly changed direction and crawled straight to him, before stopping and looking up at him. Harry willed it to crawl onto his hand, which it promptly did. Staring in wonder, he brought the mouse up to his eye level.

What was going on? Could he control this mouse? Why? Was there something special about the mouse? Was there something special about _him? _Suddenly, Harry realized something. "Freak," the Dursleys had called him. They had starved him and worked him so hard so that he wouldn't have enough energy for any "freakishness," they'd said. They had beaten him to keep the "freakishness" out. Whatever it was, _they knew about it._

He thought about this as he lay down against a wall. The Dursleys had known there was something different about him. What was it, though? Could he control animals? No, he hadn't been able to do anything to stop Ripper from biting him. Just mice then? What if he could control mice? They could run errands for him. Find him food. Stand guard when he slept (he'd heard stories of bad men attacking people on the street whenever the Dursleys threatened to throw him out of the house).

As he considered the possible uses of being able to control mice, he tried to reach out with his mind. When he began to feel too "stretched out," he stopped and considered what he felt. He could detect a little over a dozen things, including the mouse in his hand. Three of these things "felt bigger" than the others. He called them all to him. To his surprise, he got not only eleven mice, but three rats, as well.

Keeping the first mouse, who he decided would be special, in his shirt pocket, he had the other mice and rats spread out around him and attack anybody who came close.

That done, he settled down with his new friend, who he decided to name "Alphonse," and went to sleep.

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Over the next few weeks, Harry began to work on his abilities. He quickly discovered that he had a sort of telepathic connection with his creatures. They weren't intelligent enough to communicate much, but they could tell him if something was in the area, and some very basic information. They could tell him if it was _small _(mouse or rat sized)_,_ _big_ (bigger than a large rat)or _really big _(bigger than a medium sized dog)_, _and if there were _one _or _lots _of something. He could also transfer his mind into one of his vermin (as he began to think of them rather affectionately) to gain control of its body and senses. If he did this he could also control any vermin that were within a few feet of it. This ability was useful for stealing food and supplies. Another thing he could do was give them orders, which they would carry out to the best of their (admittedly limited) abilities. This was mostly useful for setting guards (he didn't want to be hurt by those bad men he'd heard about). He did find out that he had to give his vermin orders to eat whenever they got hungry, otherwise they'd just stand guard (or whatever) until they just starved to death. He also learned the limitations of his ability. Once a rat entered his control, if it left a certain area, he would lose control over it, unless he had direct control of its body. If he had direct control of it, he could send it as far as he liked (as far as he could tell). Interestingly, the creature had to be about three times closer to him for him to _begin _controlling it than it did for him to _continue _controlling it. At first, he had to get within about forty feet of a creature to sense it and to begin controlling it, which meant that he could continue controlling it as long as it stayed within roughly 120 feet. Over time, he extended this ability until he could reach out his mind (to begin control- he could reach much farther with the creatures he already had) across the entire parking deck, and quite a ways beyond. When he got to the third floor, he was excited to learn that he could also control the colony of bats that lived there. He immediately set them patrolling the edges of what he'd begun to think of as his territory, which basically meant the parking deck.

Using his ability to directly control rats, he was able to make a relatively nice life for himself. There was a small department store a few blocks away, and at night he'd take over a pack of vermin and go on raids. At first, he focused on the essentials- blankets, a pillow, clothes, and food. After he'd made a nice little den, which basically consisted of a pile of blankets up against a wall, he began to branch out and steal things like books and magazines. He tried to get a small TV, but it was just too heavy for the rats, and for some reason, he didn't like the idea of stealing money to buy one with. It was fine to steal _things_, as long as they were in a store_; _after all, nobody was using them, but other people worked for their money, and they needed it- not everybody could steal as easily as he could.

Eventually, over time, his life became fairly routine. He would wake up and do some exercises (he didn't want to wind up looking like Dudley), then eat breakfast. Unfortunately, he couldn't get a refrigerator, so he was stuck with packaged food, which tasted fine, but wasn't terribly healthy, so he'd do some more exercises after eating, too. Then he'd set his vermin to patrol his territory, with orders to alert him of anything _big _or _really big,_ while he read a book or magazine. Sometimes he would read about science or math, in an attempt to continue his education, but usually he preferred history and fantasy.

The patrols turned out to be very useful. A few times, the vermin alerted him to something _big, _which turned out to be stray dogs or cats. The cats he would order his vermin to kill (after all, cats killed mice and rats, and those were his friends), and the dogs would be watched. If they tried to harm his vermin, they would be killed. If they didn't, they were left alone. After a while, the dogs in the area learned that as long as they didn't attack anything, the parking deck made a nice little haven, and he had a small number of dogs living on the ground floor of the parking deck. He couldn't control them, but they were friendly and fun to play with.

One day, after he'd been in the parking deck for about three weeks, as he was reading _The Crystal Shard, _an interesting book he'd stolen from a nearby bookstore, the vermin told him that there was something _really big _entering the parking deck. Looking through the eyes of one of his rats, he could tell that it was an old man in too big jeans, held up by a piece of string, a torn up T-shirt, and a dirty brown coat. Over his shoulder was an old, worn out backpack, and on his face was a dirty grey beard. Harry's first instinct was to order his rats to kill the man, and he was about to do so, when a though struck him. This man may not be one of these bad men. He may be just like Harry- alone and friendless.

So Harry decided to go and talk to the stranger. He marked his page in the book and got up, making his way to the ground floor (his den was on the third floor, where he'd found an old, moth eaten couch and a table and chair- apparently he wasn't the first to use this parking deck as a home). Harry moved stealthily, his bare feet hardly making a sound against the asphalt, as he made his way to the man. He also had as many vermin as possible move in around the man, in case this turned out to be a mistake.

By the time Harry had reached the entrance to the ground floor, the man was halfway into the parking deck, and looking distinctly nervous (he had heard all the skittering and chattering, and seen a few of the bats swoop around).

Harry snuck around to the man's back, and spoke up.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, his voice raspy from disuse.

The old man jumped and whirled around, reaching for a knife hanging from the piece of string he used as a belt.

"Who'r you? What'd'you want?" the man asked.

"My name is Harry. I want to know why you're in my home," Harry said as the vermin skittered around him.

"'m just looking for a place to stay. Got inta town a few days ago, 'n' needed a place to sleep. I 'membered this place. Few friends 'n' me dragged an old couch in a couple o' years ago."

"That was you?" Harry asked, surprised. The old geezer didn't look like he could've lifted the chair, much less the couch.

"Well, mostly 'twas Jeff. He alwus did th' heavy liftin, 'fore he kicked it in a fight. Then Tiny bought it 'n ta winter o' '88- poor bugger caught 'monia, and din't never recover. Frankie went 'sane after that- Tiny was his twin, y'see, and they was real' close. 'nyway, I'm all that's left of the old crowd," finished the old man, looking sad.

Harry considered this.

"How long have you been on the streets?" he asked.

"Oh, 'ver since I was j'st teenager. Ran away from home one day 'n' got lost. By th' time my parents found me, I'd made some friends 'n' decided I liked it on the streets better. Told 'm tah git lost. Biggest m'stake I ever made. 'Twas fine for a few months, but when winter came, I nearly froze, then I fell in with tha wrong sorts, 'n' by the time I realized how bad off I was, I couldn't find m' way home."

Harry thought for a moment, then made his decision.

"Would you like to stay here with me? As long as you don't harm me or any of the animals here, I can promise food and shelter, as well as books to read," he offered.

"Thanks, son. I could use a place to stay. I'm gettin' tired of movin around all the time," the man said, before offering his hand. "M'name's Eddie. Eddie Guff."

Harry looked at the old man's hand, before stepping forward to shake it. "Harry Potter."

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There it is. A big thanks to Opinionaided's (Thumb, to newer users) L.J., for helping me remember what the hell parking decks are called. Originally I just put "big parking building thingy," because the name had slipped my memory.

Leave a review, please! It takes 30 seconds, and makes my day. It also encourages me to write, knowing that other people have at least _some _opinion on my work.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry and Eddie quickly became close friends. It turned out that Eddie had been quite the reader when he was younger, and they'd spend quite a lot of time discussing and arguing over the books in Harry's collection. Once Harry stole a pair of reading glasses for the old man (Eddie was in his sixties, and beginning to lose his keen eyesight), it was almost a challenge to get him away from Harry's "library," and Eddie would always have a new book or books that he wanted Harry to get his hands on.

Another thing Harry liked about Eddie was that he didn't judge Harry for his ability to control vermin. Unlike the Dursleys, who had considered him a freak, Eddie thought Harry's abilities were something to be proud of, and told him so. He also couldn't stand the thought of the Dursleys going unpunished for what they'd done.

It was one day, as they were discussing this, that they received a visitor.

"'M tellin' ya, lad, yer power here could ruin them Dursleys. They wronged ye, and they deserve ta suffer. Imagine! Torturin' a kid 'n' usin' 'im as a slave. I don't unnerstan' why you don't find 'em 'n' give 'em what for."

Harry sighed. "I've told you the reasons I haven't done anything yet. Firstly, I don't know where they live, or how to get there. More importantly, any revenge would involve my vermin, and I can't figure out how to get _them _there. Secondly, I want them to forget about me. I want them to think I'm dead, and then I show up in their living ro... Hang on a moment. The rats just told me that there were lots of really big things on the ground floor."

Harry transferred his consciousness to one of the rats on patrol, and saw a group of four large men, two of whom were carrying baseball bats, and one of whom had a knife. Harry frowned as he switched back to his own body.

"Eddie, I think we should get to the ground floor. There are some men there, and they have weapons. I don't want to kill them- they could be homeless like you. After all, you carry a knife, and I would, if I didn't have my vermin."

"Aye, but I only use it fer protection," Eddie pointed out. "Ain't never attacked nobody what wasn't hurtin' somebody else."

"Well, maybe that's why these men carry weapons. There's no way to find out if we don't ask."

Decision made, Harry got up and walked to the ground floor, Eddie close behind him.

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Tony looked up as he heard footsteps, and saw an old man and a little kid coming down the ramp from the next level.

"Hey boys," he said, grinning, "looks like we got company. Let's have some fun with 'em"

Tony, Big Mike, and Sam stood, Tony gripping his baseball bat, Sam flicking out the blade of his knife (Big Mike was already wearing his brass knuckles). Jeff, the newest and youngest member of the group, hesitated.

"C'mon guys, they ain't hurtin' nobody. Let 'em be," he whined.

"What, Jeff? You 'fraid of an old man? Or is it the kid that's scaring you? I tell you what. You wanted to join our group? Prove you're up for it. Beat on the geezer a little. You don' gotta kill 'im-" "You'd better not- that's my job," Big Mike broke in, "but break a few bones," said Sam, the leader of the small gang.

"I wouldn't recommend that, if I were you. My little friend here's a tad protective," explained the old man.

The three older boys busted out laughing, while Jeff peered at the kid as if looking for a gun.

"C'mon," Sam urged. "Bust him up. You aren't afraid of a little kid, are you?"

Jeff looked at the kid, then at the old man, then at Sam.

"C'mon, Sam. It's just a kid and an old guy. They probably live here, or somethin'. I don' wanna hurt a little kid."

"He ain't asking you to hurt a kid," Tony pointed out. "He's asking you to hurt an old fart. One of us'll take care of the kid for ya."

At this point, Harry had heard enough. _These _were the bad men the Dursleys had told him stories about. Jeff looked like he wasn't so bad, but the other three were bad people.

Harry's initial control area had extended to include most of the city block, so he had an enormous number of vermin under his control. On top of that, he sometimes went on long walks at night, taking control of any vermin that entered his area of control while he was moving, and bringing them to the first floor of the parking deck. Between these facts, and the absurd breeding rate of the creatures, Harry now had thousands of rats, mice and bats.

As the four men argued, a group of bats swooped down, and began harassing Jeff, who immediately dove for safety. With him out of the way, the horde of rats and mice closed in on the other three, while the relatively unarmed bats retreated to the roof.

Screams rang out from the men as they swung out with their weapons, but were only able to harm a few of the hundreds of vermin. Mice and rats bit, clawed, and chewed at the three men. Blood flowed over them, the scent exciting the vermin, who chewed more vigorously than before.

Harry was horrified as he watched the three men get eaten alive by his rats, and ran off, crying.

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Eddie watched his young protector burst into tears and run away.

He took one last look at the gruesome spectacle before him, before turning and going to follow.

When he got to the third floor, Harry wasn't there. Looking around, Eddie realized that the boy must have gone to a higher floor to get away from the screams that were still ringing through the parking deck. Eddie sighed and made his way to the fourth floor, then to the fifth.

Finally, on the seventh and highest floor, Eddie found his friend curled in a ball against a corner, sobbing his eyes out. The screams, fortunately, had stopped by now, but the tears had not.

Eddie put a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Yeh did what yeh had to, lad. If'n yeh hadn't set yer animals on 'em, they'd'a killed us, don't doubt it."

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A few weeks later, Harry froze as another group of men, three this time, entered the ground floor. Eddie looked up, wondering what had caused Harry to stop in the middle of his sentence.

"There's more men, Eddie. What if they want to hurt us? I don't want to go through that again."

"Then don't, lad. I'll go down alone. You watch through a rat. As soon as I give the word, pull back inta yer own head, stuff yer ears, and sic yer horde on 'em, okay? Yeh won't have to hear them or see them, and we'll stay safe."

Harry considered this, before shaking his head.

"And what about the next time? And the time after that? Am I just gonna hide from all the people I kill? No. I'll go down with you."

Eddie frowned, but, seeing Harry's determination, stood aside.

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"What are you doing here?" Harry asked firmly (far more firmly than he felt).

"What's it matter to you, ya little brat?" one of the men (though, really, they were more boys, like the last group) challenged.

"We live here," Harry said, pointing to Eddie and himself, "and I don't like trespassers. Especially not when they have weapons," he said, nodding at the men's knives.

"Well, we aren't gonna leave just because some little twerp and his grandpa tell us to," the boy answered, "so fuck off."

At this, Harry scowled. With a thought, he had his rats and mice move into the light, and the bats come down from the ceiling and begin flying in circles around the boys.

"What the fuck? What the hell's going on?" exclaimed a second boy, staring at the writhing, crawling swarms of rats surrounding him and cutting him off from his friends. He jumped as a mouse crawled over his shoe.

"I can control vermin," Harry explained. "If you leave now," at this, the rats moved, clearing a path to the entrance of the parking deck, "I'll let you live. If you don't, my rats will kill you. It's your choice."

"Holy shit! Jeff wasn't kidding! Fuck this, I'm outta here." the second boy, the frightened one, muttered.

"C'mon, you're afraid of a few mice? Get back here, ya pussy!" Shouted Boy Number 1. However, this seemed to convince Number 3, who had yet to speak, that Number 2 was actually correct, and he ran for the exit as fast as he could.

Harry looked at Number 1, before sighing, and commanding his horde to attack.

This time, when the screams began, Harry refused to run away, or even close his eyes. He forced himself to watch every twitch, listen to every scream, until the boy stopped moving and the rats swarmed over the body. Only when every inch of flesh was gone and the rats retreated did he allow the tears to finally fall.

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Over the next year, various groups of boys and men came to the parking deck- many of them after the disappearance of their friends, or after hearing a rumor of the strange boy who could control rats. To all of them, Harry gave the same warning- leave, or die. Most fled, and never returned. A few stayed. When they did, Harry would refuse to leave until his rats had stripped every bit of skin from their bodies.

So it was that Harry Potter taught himself to kill.


	3. Chapter 3

In the last chapter, I stated that Harry learned to kill by ordering his rats to kill anybody who wouldn't leave the factory. However, I feel that I didn't go into enough detail in that final paragraph. The idea was that people would treat the factory much as they would a haunted house- they'd hear rumors about it, and dare each other to go there, or they would just go to investigate them. Harry would show up and give them a warning- leave or die. He would also mention and demonstrate his ability to control vermin. Almost all of the people would leave. A very, very few would be stupid enough, or drunk enough, to refuse, and Harry would kill them. Because of the extremely gruesome nature of the deaths, Harry very quickly became hardened to violence. The cops never got wind of these events because there were only a few deaths, and most of those were unsavory characters whose friends wouldn't be willing to go to the cops, due to their own background. The issue is, I'm trying to turn Harry from an abused child into a creepy little bastard (although I'm not sure how to write that), and I've only got a year to do it.

I would also like to add that the last chapter was my first foray into the horror genre. I'm not sure how many scenes like that there will be- after all, Harry's going to be going to school. There aren't a whole lot of opportunities for him to kill people. I'll probably be able to come up with some violence during the summer, but even that may be limited. I have a few ideas on what he'll do to the troll, and Quirrel, but that's all. Malfoy may get injured, but he won't be eaten until later on, if at all. If you have any reccomendations on scenes, please let me know.

**An Important Note: **I have changed Harry's place of residence from a parking deck to a factory, for a few reasons. Mostly, as my dad pointed out, parking decks don't generally get abandoned. I also had a few ideas that I wanted to use later in the story. You'll have to wait to find out what they are. Unfortunately, I have never actually seen the inside (or the outside, for that matter) of a factory. So I'm just gonna use my imagination to come up with something that suits my purposes. Secondly, this chapter contains a small, normally forgotten detail that is, in this case, quite important. _Harry got his first Hogwarts letter before his birthday. _Most fics have him getting it on his birthday, but in cannon, the first one showed up some time before that. In fact, his birthday was the _last _day they would accept his enrollment.

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Harry paused his reading as the bats that were patrolling the factory alerted him to something _big _flying towards his area of the third floor. He took control of them, and saw that it was a large owl. Knowing that owls ate rats and mice, he ordered a group of bats to attack the owl. As the bat Harry was seeing through (contrary to popular belief, it turned out that most bats _aren't _blind, though some kinds do have poor eyesight) closed in, he noticed that there was a letter clutched in its claws. Curious, Harry called off the bats, but had them follow it closely, and had all the rats on the third floor hide in areas that the owl wouldn't be able to get to (the vast majority of the rats were on the first or second floors, so there was enough room).

"What is it, lad?" Eddie asked.

"There's an owl flying towards us. It's carrying a letter," Harry explained.

"Y'serious?"

Harry nodded.

They waited, and the large brown and grey owl flew up to them and perched on the table, before holding out the letter in its claw. Harry took it, and saw that it was addressed to him in bright green ink.

_Mr. H. Potter_

_The Third Floor_

_The Abandoned Factory_

_London_

Harry opened the letter and began reading, before exclaiming,

"Eddie! This explains everything! The vermin, the Dursleys, setting Dudley on fire, _everything!"_

"Why? What's it say, lad?" Eddie asked excitedly.

"It says _I'm a wizard!" _Harry explained happily. "There's a school called Hogwarts that teaches magic and they've invited me to go there!"

Eddie looked at him carefully. On the one hand, the boy _did _have a strange ability. On the other, he didn't want his young friend to find out that this was some kind of cruel prank, and be heartbroken.

"Be careful now, lad. Ya don' know if they're pullin' yer leg er not. I've ne'er heard o' magic, nor Hogwarts. True, what yeh kin do is strange, but I've heard tell o' stranger things, and none of 'em included no wizards."

Harry frowned at this. What if it was just a joke? How could he find out?

"What should I do, Eddie? I don't think I could stand it if it was fake. How can I find out if it's real?"

"Well," said Eddie after looking over the letter, "It says here that they 'await your owl.' I take it that means you can give a response to this 'ere owl, and he'll take it to 'em. Ask 'em to come here 'n' prove it."

Harry smiled and looked at the owl, before yelping. It was diving for a rat who's nose was poking out from under the couch. Before he could do anything, it grabbed the rat by the nose, and, using its beak, killed it. Harry scowled, but didn't do anything- it wasn't Alphonse, who rarely left his pocket, and he'd seen rats die before in the fights with dogs and cats. He wanted to put his horde on the owl and kill it, but he knew he needed the bird to contact this Professor McGonagall.

Looking away from where the owl was eating the rat, Harry grabbed a pen and piece of paper and, with Eddie's help, wrote a reply.

_Dear Professor McGonagall,_

_ I'm afraid I have a hard time believing you. I've never heard of wizards or magic, beyond my own abilities, and while my abilities are unusual, they could have a different explanation. Either way, I have no money and no way of getting supplies. Please meet me at nine o'clock at..._

At this, Harry paused. "Hey Eddie, where do we live?"

After writing down the directions Eddie gave him and signed the letter, he added,

_P.S. Please don't send any more owls. This one killed one of my rats._

Harry reread the letter, and satisfied, gave it to the owl once it finished its meal. The owl took it in its claw and flew off.

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Minerva McGonagall smiled as another acceptance letter was dropped on her desk, then frowned once she read it. Why on earth would Mister Potter want to meet her at an abandoned building? And she knew for a fact that that area of town was nowhere near where he lived- she had visited his relatives' house herself, after all, and while she didn't have the best mental map, especially of muggle London, she knew enough to know that this was too far away to be a hangout of Potter's.

Frowning even more deeply, she took out the school ledger, and opened to the last page, where the names and addresses of the latest batch of students would be magically recorded.

"Let's see," she mumbled to herself. "Parkinson... Patil... Pegg... Planer... Potter! Here we are! Address..."

Professor Flitwick was astonished when he found Professor McGonagall passed out in her office twenty minutes later. Wondering what had her so surprised, he looked at her desk, and found the school ledger.

Professor Snape was even more astonished to find them both unconcious, thirty minutes after that. Having no natural curiousity whatsoever, rather than investigate, he immediately brought them both round.

Another five minutes, and Albus too-many-names Dumbledore was running from a furiously yelling McGonagall while dodging hexes from an equally furious Flitwick.

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The next day, Harry could barely contain his excitement as he and Eddie waited by the entrance of the factory, repeatedly checking his watch. It was two minutes to nine, and as everybody knows, a wizard is never late. Harry checked his watch again. A minute thirty.

After the longest ninety seconds the universe had ever seen, there was a loud _crack, _and a man with a long white beard and equally long white hair appeared. He was wearing chartreuse robes with constantly changing, moving, shifting geometric patterns and swirls that shifted through the entire color spectrum (and sometimes beyond it).

Harry ran up to the man and asked him "Are you Professor McGonagall?"

The old man chuckled. "I'm afraid not, my boy. My name is Professor Dumbledore. We decided that it would be better if I came to meet you in person. I will be needing to speak with your relatives anyway when we return you home."

All the excitement Harry had been feeling faded away, and a sense of forboding filled Harry at these words. "What do you mean? You aren't planning to take me back to the Dursleys, are you?"

Dumbledore frowned. "Why, Harry, don't you want to see your family again?"

Harry shook his head vigorously. "The Dursleys aren't my family. And I _never _want to see those bastards again for as long as I live."

"I'm sorry Harry, but it's extremely important that you return to your relatives' house." Dumbledore said, reaching to touch Harry on the shoulder comfortingly.

Unfortunately, this was exactly the wrong thing to do. Harry had never been touched comfortingly in his life- the only physical contact he'd recieved from the Dursleys had been when they beat, shoved, pushed, or grabbed him, and Eddie wasn't the most affectionate sort. To Harry, the old man was reaching to grab him and force him back to the Dursleys.

In that light, Harry's response was quite natural. He yelled and jerked his arm back, before turning and running through a hallway. Dumbledore made to follow him, but a massive swarm of bats swooped down around him, circling and buffeting him so that he could not see. Quickly, Dumbledore summoned a gust of wind to blow them out of the way, and followed to the door at the end of the hallway.

Once Dumbledore opened the door, his heart sank. It was obvious that this building was as much of a maze as Hogwarts was. He was standing on a concrete walkway, and in front of him was a labyrinth of machinery, doors, and pipes.

Just as the wizard was trying to figure out what to do, he heard a low, wheezing chuckle behind him. Turning, Dumbledore saw the old man who had been waiting at the entrance with Harry.

"Unless ye've got a magic way o' mappin' this place out, ye'd best give up. It took us three months ta learn our way around the damn place. And tha' was before Harry decided it'd be smart ta set up booby traps."

Dumbledore frowned, then asked, "I don't suppose you'd be willing to help me find him? It really is extremely important that he returns to his relatives."

"Fuck no," responded Eddie bluntly. "The only reason Harry is ever gonna go back ta those bastards is when 'e fin'ly decides ta kill 'em. They beat 'im, starved 'im, and used 'im as a slave. And he's never said nothing about it, but I recognize burn scars when I see 'em. Even a few knife marks on 'is arms. The best thing they ever did ta the lad was leavin' 'im 'ere."

Dumbledore's mind reeled. Arabella Fig had tried to warn him that the Dursleys were mistreating Harry, but Dumbledore had never believed it could have gone that far. When she said they worked him to the bone and didn't clothe him properly, he'd assumed it was just her usual grandmotherly manner. But knife and burn marks? No, Dumbledore had never believed it could have been so bad.

Tears fell from the old wizard's eyes as he realized what he had condemned the child of his favorite students to, and his head fell.

"I thought... I told them to..." Dumbledore stammered, unable to finish his sentence through the realization of what he'd done. "It was supposed to keep him safe. They were his mother's family. Surely, I thought, they would make a good home for their nephew? And how else could I protect him from Voldemort's followers? The charm was the only way I knew."

Eddie put his hand on Dumbledore's arm. "Maybe ye' should start at the beginnin'."

Dumbledore nodded, and, without thinking, told the old man everything. He spoke of wizards, of dark lords, of prophecies, of betrayal, and of murder. When he was finished, he was crying like he hadn't done since Arianna's death.

"... and Voldemort's followers were still out there, and I just _knew _that he wasn't truly dead, and his mother's sacrifice had created such a powerful protection, that it was the only thing I could think of to protect him. His relatives were supposed to care for Harry as if he were their own son. I never would have believed they would treat him so poorly." Dumbledore finished, still sobbing.

Eddie frowned.

"I unnerstan' why ya did it, but ya should have checked on the lad. Ya wouldda known how bad off he was."

"I _did. _I had a trusted friend move in near the Dursleys to keep an eye on young Harry. But then I didn't listen to her when she said that Harry was being mistreated." Dumbledore hesitated. "I didn't... _wouldn't _believe that I had made a mistake in placing Harry with his relatives. So I told myself Arabella was just exaggerating the situation, and I always found myself too busy to check on the situation myself. And..." Dumbledore abruptly stopped speaking and looked at Eddie with mounting horror. "Oh, god. I just told you everything, didn't I?"

Eddie nodded, "Aye, yeh did, but don' worry. I'll not tell a soul."

Dumbledore shook his head. "I'm so very sorry, but the things I told you here _must _remain secret, including from Harry. Harry is not yet ready to hear of his fate, and the knowledge is too dangerous to be allowed to fall into the hands of others. I'm very sorry," at this he took out his wand, "but... _obliv..."_

Before Dumbledore could finish the spell, a group of bats swooped down and attacked him. While Dumbledore was distracted, Eddie reached forward and grabbed the wand, yanking it out of Dumbledore's hands.

A look of horror came over Dumbledore's face, and he dove after the wand, ignoring the bats that were scratching at his skin. Eddie, however, had read enough fantasy to recognize a wand when he saw one, and had no intentions of letting Dumbledore anywhere near it. Being some fifty years younger than Dumbledore, and having been quite spry in his youth, Eddie was able to jump away from the wizard and run down the stairs into the factory main, where he quickly lost disappeared into the jumble of machinery and walkways.

Dumbledore stared in dismay at the spot where Eddie had disappeared with his wand, until he heard something. Turning, he was horrified to see thousands of rats and mice running towards him from every direction, teeth gleaming as they chittered and crawled over each other in their eagerness to get to their prey.

As desperate as Dumbledore was to retrieve the Elder Wand, he knew a lost cause when he saw one, and the rats were fast approaching. Quickly, the now wandless Dumbledore mentally called on Fawkes, and vanished in a flash of red and orange flames.

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Wow. That was tough. I couldn't decide what would happen if the master of the Elder Wand were a muggle, and that threw me off this chapter for days. I have some ideas now, but nothing set in stone. If you have any ideas, send me a PM.


	4. Chapter 4

After Dumbledore disappeared, Harry and Eddie came out from their hiding places to discuss the events of the day.

"Well, what do we do now?" Harry started. "I'm not sure I want to go to a school where the Headmaster attacks old men for no good reason."

"Nah, lad. If yer really on o' these wizards, you need to learn what you can do, and yeh need an education anyway. Besides, I don' think he was gonna hurt me. I'm not sure what he _was _gonna do, but I don't think he'da harmed me. He seemed like a good enough sort, especially if everything he said is true. Nah. Yer gonna go to this Hogwarts. The question is how we contact them to say so."

Eventually, Harry and Eddie decided that the wizards would likely contact them again, and they went back to their normal routine.

Sure enough, the next day, the rats told Harry that there were _lots _of _really big_ things downstairs. A quick investigation revealed a stern, middle aged woman and a tiny man with white hair and a beard to (relative to size) match Dumbledore's, both of whom were wearing robes.

"Hey Eddie, two more people in bathrobes just showed up in the lobby." Harry informed his friend.

"See? I told yah they wouldn't let yah go that easy. Let's go meet 'em." Eddie said.

Harry and Eddie made their way to the entrance of the factory, as Harry directed the rats to close in on the entrance room, just in case the wizard and witch tried anything.

"Hello," said Harry as he opened the door to the lobby, "I suppose you're here about Hogwarts?"

"Yes," said the stern looking middle aged woman. "I'm Professor McGonagall, the Deputy Headmistress, and this is Professor Flitwick. Professor Dumbledore felt it would be... unwise to come back here in person, but he did wish us to express his regret for his actions against you," she looked at Eddie as she said this, then reached into a pocket of her robes and withdrew an envelope. "He also gave me this letter for you, saying that there were things he needed to explain."

Eddie took the letter, opened it, and scanned its contents. As he progressed further along the letter, his eyebrows progressed further up his forehead until they were lost in his tangled mass of grey hair. Upon reaching the end, he folded it up and put it in his pocket.

"I think I'll have tah talk to him about this in person sometime. But that's business for another day. Today we're here to talk about Harry's education."

"Quite right. Hogwarts offers expert instruction in core subjects such as Transfiguration, Charms..."

"Actu'ly," Eddie interrupted with a slight cough, "the question isn't a matter of _if _he's gonna go. It's a matter of _how. _How does this school work?"

"Oh." McGonagall appeared quite surprised at this. "We rather expected it would be somewhat difficult to convince you, after your... altercation with the headmaster yesterday."

At this, Harry broke in. "I've already decided on that. I'll forgive the headmaster this time, but if he tries to attack me or my friends, _or _take me back to the Bastards, I'll kill him," the eleven year old boy stated bluntly.

McGonagall and Flitwick stared at Harry.

_This... _child _is threatening to kill Professor Dumbledore? And so casually? _McGonagall thought. Not even bothering to address the impossibility of a first-year student killing the most powerful wizard in the world, she looked around the room. The entrance to the factory, while it had once been a rather nice lobby, was now decrepit and overrun. It was clear that the boy was used to hardships, but... _murder? _Was he so jaded that he would be willing to kill?

Flitwick's thoughts seemed to be along the same lines. "Tell me, Mr. Potter," he squeaked. "Have you had cause to kill before?"

Harry glanced at Eddie, who shrugged, then turned back to Flitwick. "Yes, sir, I have," he said.

When it became clear that he was not going to elaborate, McGonagall asked, "I see. And do you feel no remorse for whoever you killed?"

To McGonagall's horror, the boy actually looked surprised at her question. "Why should I? They were warned, and they didn't listen. In fact, many of them came here already warned, and I _still _gave them a chance to leave." The time when he'd cried over every kill seemed so far away now that Harry didn't even think it of consequence. That had been a different Harry, a childish, boy who, though he had been through hardships, still had no idea what the real world was like- had no idea that killing was necessary to protect himself and the few people or things he cared about.

Seeing the look on McGonagall's face, Eddie decided to do a bit of damage control.

"Ye've gotta understan', professor, that Harry's lived a hard life. Even before he was dropped off here, the Bastards were cruel. I won't give details, that's Harry's to share, but suffice to say it was bad. After we set up shop here, we had trouble with trespassers, an' this ain't the safest area to be livin' in. The firs' group that came by was gonna kill us. If Harry hadn'ta done what he did, we'd be dead by now."

Flitwick figured that this was a good time to change the subject, so instead of asking exactly what Harry _had _done, he asked, "That's the second time now that you've refferred to 'the bastards.' May I ask to whom you're refferring?"

"The Bastards were my relatives. I don't use their names anymore- they aren't people, they're monsters, who I intend to take care of at the soonest available opportunity. They enslaved me, starved me, and tortured me, before throwing me out in the streets."

At this, McGonagall's eyes hardened- she'd _warned _Dumbledore not to leave the boy there, but _noooooo, _it was safest, it was best for everybody.

"Anyway," said Eddie, "That brings us back to our current situation. As you've likely noticed, neither of us has any money. I doubt we'll be able to pay for supplies for the lad, or for tuition. Also, we have no form of transportation to get Harry to and from the school. Or is it a boarding school?"

At this, Harry frowned. He hadn't considered this possibility. He hoped it wasn't a boarding school- he wouldn't leave Eddie to live here alone while he went off for who knew how much time. Unfortunately-

"Yes, Hogwarts is a boarding school. Harry will stay there nine months of the year, with two weeks vacation for the Christmas holidays."

"No." said the boy in question, "I'm not going to go to a boarding school and leave Eddie here."

Eddie looked touched, and began "Now see here, lad, ye've got to..."

"I don't care about my education, Eddie, if it means leaving you alone and without protection for nine months every year. It's not going to happen."

"What if we were to provide accomodation for Mr..." Flitwick broke off, realizing he didn't know the old muggle's name.

"Guff. Eddie Guff," the man provided.

"For Mr. Guff, then," finished Flitwick.

"What kind of 'accomodations' might that include?" Harry asked carefully.

"Well, Hogwarts has plenty of extra rooms. I'm certain that we could house him there. And I expect that Hagrid, our groundskeeper, or Mr. Filch, our caretaker, wouldn't object to an assistant, if you wish employment." Flitwick didn't say anything, because he didn't want to give false hopes, but he was actually planning to swing for a teaching position- Charity Burbage, bless her soul, didn't know a thing about muggles, and yet she'd been teaching about them for years.

Eddie and Harry looked at each other, then began nodding vigorously.

"If you could do that, we'd be forever in your debt, professor." Harry said.

McGonagall nodded, glad that one obstacle had been overcome. The next one, fortunately, was much easier.

"You also mentioned that you don't have any money. This isn't true at all. The Potters were an Ancient and Noble House, and one of the oldest and wealthiest of those houses. Money will not be an issue for you. In fact, I suggest that you look into the option of suing your relatives for fraud, since I am almost certain that they would have recieved, and are likely still recieving, a stipend for your well being."

Harry scowled, then grinned. If that were true, he could sue the Bastards for everything they owned. Then and there, his revenge plans changed drastically. He might still kill them, but before he did, he would _ruin _them. The thing that they valued most was their comfortable, normal lifestyle, and he would take that from him as surely as they'd taken it from him.

"I think that's everythin', then," said Eddie. "Where do we go to get his money and supplies?"

"Professors Flitwick and I will be taking Harry..." "and Eddie," Harry broke in. "Fine, and yourself, to Diagon Alley shortly. Our first stop will be Gringotts, the wizarding bank, to retrieve funds from Harry's Trust Vault."

"When do we leave?" Harry asked, finally eager once more.

McGonagall checked her watch.

"The Portkey activates in seventeen minutes," she replied. "We weren't sure how long this discussion would take, so decided to give ourselves some extra time. In the meantime, I suggest we make ourselves comfortable." As she finished, she drew out her wand and conjured four large, squishy armchairs, which Harry and Eddie didn't hesitate to sit in.

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"I am _never _using one of those again," Harry said firmly after he had regained his balance.

"I suggest you get used to it, Mr. Potter," said Flitwick happily. "While magic can do many things, for some reason we have yet to develop a comfortable method of travel. While travelling by Portkey _is _the most unpleasant of the lot, it's also the most reliable. Apparition is dangerous, and Floo travel can be intercepted, or you can get the address wrong."

Harry shook his head. Why couldn't wizards just use _cars, _for God's sake?

"Anyway, our first stop is Gringotts," McGonagall said, pointing at an enourmos white building at the end of the Alley.

At this, Harry looked around. His jaw dropped as he saw where they were. The sides of the narrow streets were lined with old-fashioned shops such as Eyelops Owls, Quality Quidditch Supplies, Florish and Blott's, Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occaisions, and more. When he spotted the Magical Menagerie, it was all he could do not to go straight there- he couldn't wait to find out if there were magical rats or bats, and if so, what they could do.

"Professor? After we go to Gringotts, could we go there?" Harry asked, pointing at the Menagerie.

McGonagall smiled. Maybe there was some hope that the boy could be a normal child, after all, if he wanted a pet.

"Certainly, Mr. Potter. You'll be needing an owl anyway, and though Eyelops is better for them, Magical Menagerie does carry some."

Harry grinned. "Thank you, professor."

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"That was so totally wicked!" shouted Harry as they got off the Gringotts cart for the second time. "How come wizards don't have something like that? Why do we have to use stupid portkeys?"

Flitwick grinned. "I'm afraid it would be impractical to set up a railway all around the country. I am glad to see you enjoy the Gringotts carts, though. Most wizards try to avoid them when possible."

"Why? That was amazing!" Harry said, as they made their way to the Magical Menagerie.

"Most sane people disagree with that opinion, I'm afraid," said a slightly queezy looking McGonagall as she separated the money they had withdrawn into two separate bags. "Now, Filius, why don't you and Eddie go pick up Harry's cauldron, potions supplies, and books while Harry looks at pets? Then he and I will go to Olivanders and Madam Malkin's."

"Can we wait till we split up?" Harry asked. "I want Eddie to be able to see my new pet."

McGonagall smiled again. Yes, there was certainly hope for the boy.

"I suppose so," she responded.

Harry grinned and grabbed Eddie's hand, pulling him towards the magical pet shop and through the door.

McGonagall smiled as she saw this display of normal, childlike behavior. The smile faded quickly, however, as Harry made a beeline for the section of the shop that housed the darker creatures- rats, crows, spiders, bats, and the like.

Harry was perusing the selection of bats when he heard a sharp "_Kaw!" _behind him. Turning, Harry saw a cage containing a large, black crow. He studied it, and it studied him back, before releasing another _"Kaw!" _and pecking at the lock.

Harry smiled- he had intended to get a bat, since he could control them directly, but there was something about the crow that he liked more.

"How much for the crow?" Harry asked the shopkeeper.

"Six galleons, eleven sickles," responded the man.

Harry looked at the crow, which was continuing to peck at the lock. "I'll take him," he said.

McGonagall sighed. This was _not _what she'd had in mind for a familiar for the boy. Crows were invariably associated with death and dark magic, and she didn't want Harry to have any more of that in his life than he already had.

Before she could object, however, Harry opened the cage and let the crow fly out of its prison. The bird did two quick flights around the room, and settled on Harry's head with a "_Kaw!"_

"What're yeh gonna name 'im, lad?" Eddie asked.

Harry considered this question for a moment, then remembered a character from a book he'd read recently.

"Carrion," he responded.

"After the Prince of Midnight?" Eddie asked.

"It seems fitting, doesn't it? And didn't Carrion have a thing for crows?"

McGonagall just put her head in her hands as Flitwick counted out the money.

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Well, sorry this took so long. It's a combination of writer's block, a horrible work schedule, and getting distracted by my new story, the Gamechangers (It's a Mass Effect AU where humanity has magic). If you can guess what book the name Carrion comes from, you get cake.

Also, I'd like to give a big thanks to jdg0l1n, ElementalMaster16, fanfictionnatic, Ddragon21, Ninggay, .com, Justpucky, Cirdan Mawish, Darkth Shadow, BlueFireMoon, and Kairomaru, all of whom took a few moments out of their time to tell me what they thought of my story.

Lastly, I would like to apologize to homeless people everywhere for my depiction of Eddie as uneducated. I am also aware that his backstory is not entirely reasonable. The thing is, there's more to Eddie than meets the eye.


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